A dollar,  a coin, a will

Drunk on pain

Dazed by thought

Thought of playin games

ended up doing naught

A golden coin

A silver mine

a treasure trove

A money grove

as many search

and few do find

success in writing

and have time to continue,

the will of the writer

the mind of an author,

the beauty of a poet

and the view of an artist,

all of them are one

with the exception of their trade,

but the fact remains standing

that their skill

and thought

leads to a work of art

etched into paper,

canvas, technology

for all to find

and all to read.

Do any of you have the will

the idea and skill set

to follow your dream and make it come true?

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Can’t you see me? 

So, we all got our demons.”
our demons may differ slightly,

as I said, mines, a shadow,

A mystery that exists,

that few know.
You see him,

but few notice.

Like a ghost,

he vanishes at night

and as loyal as he is

returns by day.
“We all have our fears.”
Tears are strolling,

no longer controlling.

pain, loss, hatred, death.

all hurt the same,some less.
“We’re all lost.”
Trying to find

only to find it trying itself.

Our paths long lost

our roads seemingly gone.

we wander in search,

hoping to find our way back.
“Sorry for this suckish section. I think I should remove this book. It already hurts before I write here. Writing just reminds me of the pain…”
I walk away, the question still in the air.

“Do I stay Do I go?”

Blacked out

One Murder roared

That one time raised

The bell clearly expressed

Further dismissed

 

Rattled by words turned dead

Will solve no mistake

 

I feel something beyond.

 

A magical mystery

about superstitious discourse

any realm, wish to end

but to fetch

will retrieve]and sharing

to the personal time

 

Flustering, flapping around

Suggested to ensure

Left before

Doings of day.

 

Expecting smoke

recognised kindly

moving difficult

 

Quiet sleeping

Through

Burdened by Heaven

 

Indeed, oh indeed

to much to come

within working controls

 

What is said.

Matters of Heaven and Earth

Angels will weep

when a mortal will laugh

screaming from agony

while mortals still laugh.

from silent, silent rain

come forth such tears of pain

as to sooth a mortal’s every joy,

since childhood, whether girl or boy…

 

Final fall… forever frays… Fear,

for peaceful pride and play

such simple matters…

To a mortal’s rise and joy.

 

While the angels descend

fearful, writhing in pain

for being cast down in such pitiful rain,

now they seek to make amends

But, blatant brutalities

for fear of not

their task would finish

Just as they finish their lot…

 

such sorrow, such sadness

for a lost cause and lost joy

Redeeming matters

To a fallen angel’s last ploy.

 

“My wings have been clipped

by immortal hands,

caging me to walk these lands.

In my search to grace the Heavens

I’ve made beasts from steel

to cross the skies.

Yet those immortal hands,

they deny me flight…

Casting me forever into these mortal lands.”

 

Searching still, fidgeting more

the pain still clear in my mind

after countless years.

“Father you have seen my will,

Yet you deny me still.

I have tried all i could find!”

Pleading never calmed my fears.

 

With my mind near rest, I stood where one stands.

“I’ve given up my fight.

My life is yours to command.”

Reaching out to the empty skies

My final memory of all I feel

I start my count in groups of sevens

as I see flashes of such grands

being carried of to my lost lands

as the final grain had skipped.